Germ warfare

I sit here this morning with a sore throat, runny nose and dry cough, and I can't help but consider all the possible avenues through which germs may have come to me. Being a diligent hand-washer doesn't seem to suffice in these modern days of high contact.

Last week I passed the supply room where a woman pushing a cart loaded with letters and papers heaved a lung-full of air and sneezed a mighty cloud of fine mist all over them. She wiped some clinging spittle from her mouth and proceeded to sort the mail into all the employee folder-boxes.

I, thankfully, do not receive any paper mail. All transmissions to me are digitally scrubbed by a virus filter and deposited on a server, recovered without having to lay a finger on a single filthy surface save my own keyboard. I imagined what my reaction would have been like if it were necessary for me to riffle through those disease ridden documents. There is a box of nitrile gloves and face-masks near the press. Maybe the kitchen would have a set of tongs laying around.

Then, of course, last Thursday was Bunko at the Knights of Columbus, where 30-odd people sit around tables rolling dice, trading partners and conversations, all while sampling the variety of finger foods contributed to the pot-luck style snack table. Fingers are licked, dice blown upon, and microorganisms promenade from host to host.

However they came to me, courtesy dictates that I try my best to keep my germs to myself. I will duck under my desk to sneeze and slap away any hands that trespass upon my keyboard. Just like Needles the Inoculation Robot says, "Only you can prevent the next global pandemic."